Foreign Relations
by 4persephone
Summary: Co-Written with NeonDaisies. There are few things is life more destructive at the moment then the French.
1. Chapter 1

"I love this country of yours

"I love this country of yours. The food, the music, the _women_..."

Tony's sitting at the conference table when the statement is made, going though notes Pepper's readied and mentally preparing himself for the meeting that's due to begin any minute. He's only halfway devoted to the task though, and so when the smoothly accented comment is made by Jean-Paul Pierre, he looks up and laughs along with the three other men who have arrived early there in the room.

Tom, Tony's VP of marketing snickers at their guest and shakes his head. "We do grow them extremely well around here, Pierre...if you know what I mean."

"You do indeed...it is undeniable…my good luck this morning only confirms my opinion on the matter…"

"What happened this morning?" Tony asks with clear amusement. He sets down his notes entirely and leans back in his chair. Jean Paul is tall and blond and pale eyed. The complete opposite of him in everything but his semi-smug grin.

The Frenchman leans back in his chair and interlocks his hands behind his head. "I came into work and what did I find waiting for me at breakfast? Why nothing less than an angel unclaimed and thus just waiting…"

"And this woman? She's receptive?" Tom quirks an eyebrow. "I remind you Jean, of our company's sexual harassment policy."

It's purely a teasing jest, with just a tiny bit of warning behind it. Jean-Paul snorts and shakes his head. "Why would I force from someone unwilling what I can get from many others for free? It is not my style to be…how do you say it? Overbearing. Besides, it is not necessary. The lady in question has apparently been without proper admiration for some time now and that, frankly speaking, leaves the door wide open for me. A little wine, a little chocolate, a little dancing and then...well I _am_ French after all. It will be an amusement and I have a special weakness for long legs and lovely lightly red hair."

'Huh?' Tony's head whips around at this, because there aren't that many redheads at the office. Add long legs and the possibilities become a little alarming.

Jean- Pierre smile. "Cherie seems a most unusual woman. I look forward to finding out if 'Pepper' is actually her name or given for all those lovely little freckles."

The Frenchman's halfway hungry grin tells Tony exactly how much Jean Paul Pierre is eager to not only ask but trace those marks across bare skin.

Tony's first instinct is to insure that Pepper's busy this evening - for a the next several evenings in fact. And he decides that in light of things, it's clearly the best plan. What kind of boss would he be if he allowed Pepper to be...trifled...with?

Clearly this guy is just after sex. And no one poaches his secretary.

"So, Jean...where were you planning to take Ms. Potts? Assuming she accepts your invitation to dinner I mean?" Tony asks the question a little too idly, which causes several of the men in the room to grin in anticipation. Tony's Stark's attitude towards his assistant is well known. For a minute Tony wonders if he's been deliberately set up.

Pierre however seems not in the slightest bit daunted. "Depends on the lady," the Frenchman admits after a moment. "I have _seen_ her yes, but I have yet to make...contact...is I believe the way you Americans would put it. In my experience each woman is unique and requires a different strategy."

An evil little grin crosses Tony's lips for just a fraction of a second. 'Bad advice, bad advice...' he wracks his brain for some little gem of disaster to drop in the guy's ear. When he hits on the perfect tactic, he has to keep himself from grinning and patting himself on the back.

"Well, I don't want to spread rumors or anything, Pierre, but don't get your hopes up for much intelligent conversation," he murmurs in a friendly, confidential tone. "Because I've known some of the members of the secretarial pool, and they're not always the brightest bulbs in the chandelier, if you know what I mean." He shares a very masculine nod with Jean-Pierre, who looks as if he understands perfectly. Which is perfect.

Tom meanwhile smothers a bark of laughter in his hand.

Tony shoots him a warning look and leans back in his chair, feeling not in the slightest bit guilty.

'She's my P.A.' he reminds himself, 'And nobody fucks with her.' His technique was underhanded, but should nicely do the trick. Because if there's one thing Pepper can't _stand_, it's condescension, which Jean Paul Pierre would only offer her in spades.

Now though, if Mr. Charming here tries that kind of attitude with her, she'll feed him his balls for breakfast. And that should be off putting enough to make him keep his distance for the rest of the week before he goes back to Europe.

Consider it his…protection…of valuable company assets.

Tony leans back in his chair just as the door to the conference room opens, admitting the rest of the board and several women at the back of the group, Pepper among them. She barely even looks up from her Blackberry as she places several files in front of Tony, and then looks at briefly at the face of her watch.

"Are we already to begin Ms Potts?" he asks with a slightly abnormal formality. For once he's glad that she had a bad cough earlier this week that has forced him to actually moderate this particular meeting himself in order to help her protect her still recovering voice

Well that, and he's really grateful for her little delay before she nods her response, as if she has had to process what he's just said to her. She'll kill him if she ever finds out about this, but he's just looking out for her best interests.

"Alright then, shall we get started, gentlemen?" Tony rubs his hands together with relish. This is one board meeting that isn't going to be nearly as boring as usual.

He spends the next hour and a half leading a fairly dull discussion and watching Jean Paul's reactions carefully, though not precisely for the reasons that the others might think. Most people in the office don't have Pierre's apparent natural talent for taking in the female form without obvious leering. It doesn't make Tony any less inclined to want to punch in his face.

Yeah...this guy is interested in nothing but sex. He doesn't want to see Pepper hurt by some smooth talker. After all, she deserves much better than that. Besides, as her...friend...it's his _job_ to look out for her. So this is entirely justified.

Or so he keeps telling himself.

The amount of time that he's taking to talk himself through this makes Tony a little uncomfortable.

When the meeting takes a fifteen minute break a few minutes later, Jean gets up to refill his coffee cup from the snack tray, while Pepper edges over to where Tony's sitting surreptitiously and sets down a fresh cup of coffee she already has prepared for him.

She looks down at him with a slightly wrinkled brow. "Do you still have that headache from last night, Tony? You seem a little distracted," she murmurs as she leans down over his shoulder for a moment to pick up his old notes and replace them with the next set he'll need.

"What? Oh, no. Just observing our newest potential investor. Seems he likes what he sees so far," Tony replies vaguely.

"Not that he was listening to you all that much," Pepper observes under her breath. "But his business sense is clear. I've read his pre-meeting briefs."

It occurs to Tony that he might not have to limit himself to one strategy here. "Well, you know these French," he says quickly, a wry smile on his lips that Pepper can probably see through instantly. "Always have one eye on the ladies. He hasn't offended you has he?."

Pepper snorts. "Not really - he's been subtle about it. And there's no rude commentary. Heck, I suppose it can even be taken as a weird compliment."

Tony quirks an eyebrow. "Does that mean I get permission to stare as long as I do so subtly?"

"Mr. Stark you don't do anything subtly." Pepper rolls her eyes, but she doesn't look upset. Which surprises him a little bit actually. "Look," she continues before he can think too much about it, "Something's come up with some parts you ordered." It's not necessary for her to explain what the parts are for. "They've gotten lost somewhere between here and Japan. I'm going back to the office to track things down, and then - hopefully - I'm going to get lunch. I'm a little bit hungry."

Tony nods. "I need to finish up here and then probably muck around with the big-wigs for a few minutes...if you can manage it, grab me something downstairs while you're in the cafeteria and we'll eat together in my office before Happy takes us back to the house for the rest of the workday."

By making the request he's guaranteeing she'll actually eat...because he knows her well enough to know that without that request she'll probably get distracted by a thousand different details and end up starving and grumpy around three pm.

"Alright. But I may end up staying here for the afternoon. There's a stack in my inbox that's taller than you are, and most of it needs a personal touch instead of an e-mail." Pepper looks down at her phone as it starts vibrating. "Oh, this is the distributor. I'll see you later."

He sighs to himself and makes a mental note to call and reschedule the afternoon pick up time with Happy. Because if he doesn't stay here to shoo her home she won't be here until four pm, she'll be here until midnight and her cough hasn't improved to the point that he can allow her to do that, no matter what she may think about how much she's recovered.

Everyone's coming back to the table after the break, and Tony calls for Pepper's attention before she disappears. "Ms. Potts?" She turns and looks at him quizzically. "Ham on rye with Dijon, please."

She blinks at him before her lips tighten the way they usually do when she's hiding a smile. "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"That's all, Ms. Potts."

Tony watches her go - how kind it is of her to play along with him - before turning back to the group. "Where were we?"

The rest of the meeting goes a great deal more productively. Probably because Pierre is actually paying attention now, and making a fair number of fairly useful comments. Tony almost regrets the realization that the man is brilliant...or at least intelligent enough to deserve the position he holds in his company.

He wraps up the meeting about an hour or so later, then gets boxed in by several other staff members with various questions. Before Jean leaves the room though, Tony does hear one of the secretaries offering to show him the way down to the main dining hall.

With any luck, today is a day that Pepper's decided to be punctual instead of anticipating that he's going to be at least a half an hour late to any sort of meeting with her at his side to goad him on to his next stop. Because there's no way he's going to be able to follow Jean to the cafeteria and run any more interference.

By the time he escapes the room and makes it back to the office though, he's fairly certain that his luck has run out, in this particular situation. When he approaches the door he hears something not that common at all these days.

Pepper Potts is not only not alone at her desk, she's actually laughing merrily. He can't remember the last time he'd heard that sound.

It's when he hears the French accent that Tony sighs in defeat and steps inside. "Why, Ms. Potts, Mr Pierre. What a surprise."

Pepper stops laughing to look at him strangely. "Mr. Stark?" She's got a half eaten plate of salad in front of her, which Tony supposes is some consolation – because she had needed to eat. Frankly, though, he'd been anticipating the few minutes of just being able to tease her a little and enjoy her exclusive attention as they ate their lunches together.

She hands him a plate loaded up with a pickle, potato salad and a pasta salad he really likes. "The rye was looking pretty iffy sir..." She apologizes softly. "I got you one sandwich that's sourdough and a few of your other favorite options instead. Hopefully something will actually be an acceptable substitute."

Jean shakes his head. "You feed him like a King and meanwhile you eat like a ...what do your people call it...? A Hare. Lettuce, carrots, cheese...not even bacon or seeds…and low fat Italian dressing… "

'Yes well Pierre she's allergic to sunflowers and the nitrates in bacon give her migraines, and she says the ranch downstairs tastes funny. It's why she gets Italian on the side.'

Of course there's a bottle of her favorite blue cheese in his office mini-fridge that he would have surprised her with once they got upstairs but she'd started eating without him. Pepper blushes and shrugs. "I had half a cup of chicken soup as well. I'll be sure to make up for it at dinner."

"Sure you will, Ms Potts," Tony murmurs, a little affectionately. "Assuming you actually remember to _eat_." He resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Jean raises an eyebrow. "The lady is forgetful about something as important as remaining so lovely...?"

"No." Tony admits with a grin of poorly masked warm affection. "Just very dedicated to her work...occasionally to the point of self starvation."

"I need to be, Sir," Pepper reminds him just a little bit dryly. What she means of course is "one of us needs to be" but she's hardly going to say that in front of a virtual stranger. She wouldn't even say that in front of anyone who actually knows them both well. As long as they're in public, Pepper is the very image of a dutiful employee.

If they'd been alone though, she would have had considerably more to say on the matter.

"Mind if I join you?" Tony hooks a chair with his foot and pulls it over to take a seat.

"Of course not, Sir. We're waiting for you – Mr Pierre said he had a few additional questions. In the meantime," she shrugs, "Jean has been testing my language skills by telling me a bit more about his home country."

"And I have been correcting Ms. Potts's rusty French at the same time." Pierre gives Pepper the kind of charming grin that Tony's intimately familiar with, and instantly on edge at seeing. "I am not convinced that what is taught in your schools is actually French."

Pepper shrugs. "Yes well, unfortunately French was never really my talent anyway. I can speak decent Russian...though right now my throat can't really take the guttural accent."

"Russian?" Jean raises and eyebrow and Tony resists the urge to do the same. That's something he hadn't known about her, despite the skill's obvious usefulness in and out of the office.

She shrugs a little. "Yes well, it's more street learned than professional level. I spent a summer in Ukraine before my Junior year in college."

"Kiev?" Jean asks.

Pepper nods, "The literary history and art there is phenomenal...and it's always been a personal interest to me. In truth, I probably would have made art history my major in college, but I found out as a freshman that I had a lucky talent for numbers and there were simply more job options down that path."

'Lucky,' Tony echoes as he takes a bite out of his sandwich and sighs. 'In that if you'd studied art you likely would have never crossed my path.'

And that idea just leaves him indescribably sad.

"Did you see Chernobyl while you were there?" Pierre asks after a moment

She nods. "From as up close as they'd let anybody get to it. It was also the reason I had a hard time convincing my parents to let me go. It was ten years after the accident, yes, but they were still nervous about sending me anywhere near a toxic waste dump. Never mind that Three Mile Island was just a couple hundred miles away from where I grew up." Then she shrugs. "I miss the Ukraine sometimes. The food wasn't as trendy but the music was absolutely sublime. The Modern Baltic Style is unusual but can also be pretty catchy. There's a club here in town that actually plays it but I'm afraid that I don't get there very often. Most of my friends don't care for the style and I don't have a great deal of free time."

Tony's never heard the style of music, more importantly he didn't even know she liked it. Why does she have to be with a complete stranger before she'll share anything of herself?

Okay yes, she will occasionally share bits of herself if he asks, but the experience is a lot like pulling teeth.

Pierre of course doesn't know this. He just smiles as he suddenly stands up. "Just look at the time. I do not mean to keep you from your meal, Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark, but if you wouldn't mind, Cherie, I would appreciate the chance to take you to this club you have described to me. I find most of the music here very…uniform…and would like to hear something with some international flavor."

Pepper colors again and nods. "Alright...that would be nice I think. Are you free tonight? Around seven perhaps?"

Tony just sits there and blinks.

There is no way this is actually happening.

Since when did he fall into the twilight zone?

Since now, apparently, since when Pepper tells Jean-Paul she'll pick him up at his hotel at seven he's even more shocked. He's downright flabbergasted when she allows Pierre to take her hand and brush his lips against her knuckles. She looks a little shocked herself, from the burning flush on her cheeks, but she grins and watches Pierre until he leaves the office.

When she turns back to face him he's apparently still gaping, because she immediately puts her hands on her hips and, _still_ blushing, says simply, "Okay, _what_?"

"You...you...!" Tony puts his plate on her desk so he can get up and pace. "I thought we'd established that he's a loser. He did nothing but stare at you all morning, Pepper!"

"And?" she says a little impatiently. "That was just during the meeting. Besides I seem to remember saying that in some lights that can be considered a _compliment._ We actually got to talk for half an hour before you came in, and short of a slightly awkward beginning, he's been a perfect gentleman. He's willing to take a chance on a music style he's never heard just because I like it. Besides, do you have any idea how long it's been since I just relaxed and let my hair down for an evening?"

Yes, he does. Which irritates the _hell_ out of him because he has on more than one occasion either urged her to take off early or to stop working for awhile and slack off with him. Which she _always_ turns down.

"Pepper, I hate to break it to you, but I know guys like Jean. I used to _be_ a guy like Jean. He is not worth your time."

"This I gotta hear." Pepper crosses her arms. "And what kind of 'guy' is Jean, exactly?"

Tony mimics her position, standing with his feet slightly spread and his legs braced like he's actually getting into a fight. "All he's interested in is sex."

"Really? And yet he seemed genuinely interested when I was talking about travel, good food and books we've both read." She shakes her head. "Guys who like sex can't like anything else, then? Have you ever heard of equitable _trade_, Tony?"

"Ever heard of closing the deal, Pepper?" he snaps back with what he realizes after is way too much sarcasm.

She stares at him in disbelief and then shakes her head. "So what? I'm not allowed to say 'no' at the end of the night if I'm not interested? I'm a whore apparently? Because you're making it sound like us ending up in bed is a foregone conclusion. He can't possibly want my company for any other reason, right?" Pepper stands up behind her desk.

"Well, here's a shocker then - what if I decide that I want to have sex tonight, Tony? What if he's interesting and charming and makes no demands. Is that a crime? Since when am I not allowed the same lifestyle choices as other single, busy people Tony?"

That brings him up completely short. That leaves him jaw gaping. Pepper snorts at his shock and keeps right on going. "Newsflash, Tony: I'm dedicated and chronically overworked. That doesn't make me dead." She snaps the plastic lid back on her salad as she watches him challengingly. Obviously she expects a coherent answer out of him for some reason.

When he can't come up with any reply, she shakes her head. "Let me shock you a little more. A player just asked me to dinner, Stark, and guess what – I had absolutely no problem accepting. Because he's not the first who ever has and he certainly won't be the last. Right now, he's playing a good game and that gets him the chance at dinner and maybe a couple of dances afterwards. Whether it gets him more eventually, for the very short time that he's still in country?" She shrugs. "I'm not sure that's even really your business."

He gapes at her for another second before her words catch up with him. "It is my business." He frowns at her as he walks toward her. She stands her ground - well, she's got no reason not to considering any kind of difference in height between them is one he doesn't want to think about as long as she's wearing heels. "You don't do casual sex, Pepper. And if you did, you really ought to be doing it with me."

He stops in front of her and waits to see what she has to say to that.

She watches him for a very long time before she nods. "You're wrong. What I don't 'do' meaningless flings. Which is why we're not sleeping together. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put this in the break room and get something to drink before I start on my paperwork for the afternoon. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Stark."

She slips out of the room before has a chance to pick his jaw up off the floor.

He stands there in the middle of the room for several very long seconds, and wonders what in hell exactly just happened.

Pepper's dressed up for once. It's been awhile since she's gone out on a date, but that doesn't really mean anything. She still knows how to dress for one. She's got an entire wardrobe full of clothes that she's bought on the chance that she might get a night to herself. Clothes that were meant for Tony to never, ever see. Even if she technically might have bought them for him.

Tonight she's got on the definition of "little black dress," the kind where she's going to have to be careful about how she gets out of cars. Along with them she's wearing the Louboutins with the flaming red soles. Her hair's down, her eye makeup is dramatic, and she's ready to listen to music, eat a good meal, and flirt with a charming man who really doesn't expect much from her.

Because no matter what Tony Stark thinks, she's damn well entitled to be human occasionally…

Her little Audi speeds up to Jean's hotel and stops on a dime, a skill she's perfected after years of working for Tony, who doesn't really respect anyone who can't drive. Jean's waiting for her and climbs into the car before she can take the car out of drive.

He whistles when he sees her and looks down at his own clothes. "Cherie...I must ask? Am I a tad underdressed for this club?"

She takes in his dark pants and light colored silk shirt and shakes her head. "Not at all. I suppose I just was in the mood to dress a little more daring."

She presses the gas pedal so that they start moving as smoothly as silk, then downshifts and guns her engine when they're away from the curb. After hours of paperwork she's restless. And if she's honest with herself, after her conversation with Tony she's more than a little reckless, but then she's pissed.

Occasionally the noose gets a little too tight. Tonight it is time to break free.

"You seem..." Jean studies her carefully for a moment... "Released," he says after a considering pause. "Too many hours in a cage making you antsy, Cherie?"

She glances at him then looks at the road. "I refuse to answer on the basis that I may incriminate myself," she says dryly. When Jean only seems confused she explains, "It's been so long since I've had a night out that the answer is frankly embarrassing."

"A pity really. We'll do what we can to make up for time, and we'll start with good food and good wine..."

She almost adds "and dancing," but finds herself struck by the memory of the last time she did go dancing. And with whom. Tony's already present enough in her life without her brooding about him on a date.

"Jean, can you promise me something?" she asks after a moment. Because she needs something very specific from him tonight, and she's only starting to realize it.

"To a beautiful lady...I can promise a great deal." Jean waits for her to go on patiently.

After working for...who she does...for so long, you'd think she'd be immune to blushing, but she's not and Pepper's glad it's dark in the car because Jean's tone is just too smooth. "I don't want to talk about work tonight. In any capacity. I'm sick to death of it right now."

Jean smiles. "What kind of fool talks about the drudgeries of the day in such lovely company?" He tilts his head. "We will honor that request, but might I ask _you_ a favor in return?"

"Well, since you're being so accommodating..." Pepper glances at him again as she pulls up to a stop light.

"I truly do wish to see this club you spoke of, but I had hoped, while I was here in LA, to also get at least one glance at the ocean."

Her look turns questioning. "Last time I checked, France has a coast of its own," she says as the light turns green. "Aren't they all pretty much the same?"

"In some ways perhaps, but my personal goal for this life to wet my feet at least once in every ocean in the world before I turn fifty."

"Even the Antarctic?" She changes lane almost without thinking, though she's aware of the traffic around her. "Sounds like a recipe for frost bite to me."

He smiles. "I did not say it was a wise goal. But since when does what we wish always have to be good for us?" He shrugs a little. "The bitter often finds its best compliment when mixed with sweet."

"I think we can make it to the beach," Pepper agrees as she makes several turns in quick succession and then pulls into a parking spot about half a block away from the club.

Before she can get out though Jean reaches over and covers her hand with his.

"You will stay here a moment, Neh? And at least let me _try_ and be a gentleman?" Then he's opening his own car door and coming around to open her own and offering a crooked arm to usher her inside.

"Thank you for understanding," she murmurs as they enter the club.

"This evening is about pleasure for both of us, Cherie."

And as it turns out, it is that almost exactly. They eat good food, drink good wine - though Pepper only sips hers - and Pepper laughs freely as they dance. She does so not just because they step on each other's toes several times, but because it feels good and he's amusing, and she's able to flirt back without worrying about repercussions or change or loss of identity.

It's after eleven before she drags him from the club, insisting that if they don't go to the beach now then they might not make it because she'll be too exhausted. True to his word, Jean strips off his shoes as soon as they reach the tide line and rolls up his pants so they won't get wet. "Come, Pepper." And then he braces her so she can remove her shoes as well and drags her, laughing, down toward the water.

Pepper's stunned by the sheer length of time it's been since she's walked barefoot in the sand. She can't actually remember the last time she did it at night under the light of the moon. The water is warm to match the springtime air and Jean's laugh is genuinely delighted as he all but rushes into the surf, grinning at the way that the eddies swirl around his toes as each wave hits the shore and then retreats back out again.

"Ah Cherie...you do this man's heart good." He chuckles, grabbing her unexpectedly around the waist and spinning her dizzily around.

"Jean!" she squeals. "Oh God, be careful. Don't drop me!"

The Frenchman only snorts and then for a moment, pretends to do exactly that. She automatically clutches his shoulders and leans up so that she's pressed against him chest to chest. When she looks in his face to scold him she's almost surprised to see blond hair and blue-grey eyes instead of black and brown and then she's relieved. 'No commitments,' she reminds herself. 'No hard choices.'

It doesn't matter how much this man reminds her of Tony.

Jean comes to a stop and slowly lets her down so that her body slides against his. He raises his brows questioningly and she tilts her head in consideration before she leans in and brushes her lips against his in a quick, teasing kiss. The water swirls around her ankles as she pulls back and raises a brow at him in return.

The kiss he gives in return is equally playful, but a little more testing, and the hunger that it sparks is enough to leave her reeling.

Because it has been awhile. God it's been _so_ fucking long.

As long as she is being selfish and self-centered tonight, she might as well go for broke, she thinks in a distant part of her mind as she rises up on her toes and follows after Jean as he tries to leave her with just that teasing kiss. The sound that comes out of her throat is questioning and carries just a hint of protest.

Jean Paul's hands go to her hips and drag her upright against his chest.

"Easy, Cherie. There's no need for such hurry." His smile is warm though his eyes are almost...confused? "Though if this is what you truly want...we can go back to my suite."

"Yeah?" She rubs her thumb along his jaw...and sighs deeply.

He just had to tell her to slow down. To actually think about what she's doing.

Jean Paul is nice. Clean cut and well shaven. He's suave and intelligent and judging by that kiss, probably a pretty capable partner in bed. But he's also looking a little concerned. He's becoming wary of her aggressive reaction to his easy going nature perhaps, or maybe he's just picking up on the undercurrent of desperation and intensity she's finally becoming aware of herself.

Because this – this isn't her. A one night stand with a near stranger? Why?

Because Tony had had the audacity to suggest that somehow she shouldn't or wouldn't.

And why Jean Paul at all, even if she was the type for this type of thing? She makes herself stop and think. And then she groans in embarrassment. Because she _had_ expected to see black hair and deep brown eyes earlier. And if she's honest, then Pierre reminds her of Tony in a lot more ways than just his serial dating habits. The similarities are in some ways uncanny.

She can't do this. Which is really, really annoying because she'd wanted to get laid tonight. But this…this is just fucked up psychology.

She refuses to fuck someone who looks like Tony to avoid admitting that where she should be right now is in Tony's bed.

"Cherie?" Jean asks as he tilts her face up. A lopsided grin spreads over his face as he reads her embarrassed expression, and he shrugs even as he tilts his head down to kiss her again.

It's really nice, there's no denying that. But she doesn't use people if she can help it. She certainly doesn't do so to hide from herself.

When he breaks the kiss she returns the lopsided smile and speaks apologetically. "It's late. I have to go to work in the morning. But I suppose you figured out already." She blushes a little. "About tonight…Jean Paul, I'm sorry."

"For what? It was a lovely evening, Cherie. With wondrous company. Thank you for humoring my wish to come and walk on the beach. I have no real regrets." And he doesn't - she can see in his eyes how very much he had truly enjoyed both the date and her company.

"Come on, it's late, I'll take you home." She tilts her head back towards the parking lot.

"So tell me, Cherie...will you tell me his name?"

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry no. But at least I know what it is though."

She drops Jean off at his hotel and idles in front of it for a few seconds as she drums her fingers against the steering wheel. The responsible thing to do would be to go home and get some sleep and save the plan to the confrontation that's brewing in her head for tomorrow. She'll wear one of those outfits she'd bought for his eyes only with the intention of never letting him see because then he'd notice her in ways she wasn't ready to be noticed.

She's not feeling responsible though. The dress she's wearing is still daring, and she's driving barefoot so she won't ruin her heels, and she's just as reckless as she'd been at the beginning of the evening only more frustrated.

All that considered, she's really not surprised when she pulls into traffic going the opposite way to her house.

Because like she said earlier, tonight she's feeling restless.

It's past midnight and it only takes her thirty five minutes to made the drive to Tony's house. She presses her hand to the pad at the front gates, speeds up the winding road to the house, and squeals to a stop a few feet away from the front door. She turns off her car but leaves her keys in the ignition - face it, there's no one around to steal it - and then rings the front doorbell until she gets an answer.

The Tony who answers is not the Tony from work. Not by a long shot. He's wearing only light cotton pants and he smells like expensive scotch.

"What…?" he asks in dazed confusion as she pushes her way inside. His hair is ruffled on one side as if she's woken him up and he's scrubbing at his eyes as if he can't believe she's standing in his entryway.

"Shhh…" She steps close and places her thumb over his lips. He shudders and it sends an answering pulse through her body, leaving her hot and excited. He's defenseless right now, and she's running on impulse. If she gives him any time at all to process what's happening, he's going to want to talk and if she has to start explaining herself she's going to run out of steam and she'll end up running away. This is their chance to repeat that night up on balcony of the concert hall, and she's getting her kiss, and she's getting everything else she wants because there's really no sense in fighting anymore.

She's sick of being alone and for now it's enough to erase the fear of being caught up in "Hurricane Anthony" and never being seen again.

So she takes a deep breath and she finishes what she started out on the balcony. She reaches out and cups the back of his neck and she pulls his head to hers. "Pepper..."

"_Shut up_." And _finally_ they're actually kissing.

His lips are incredibly, stunningly soft. She can't remember ever seeing a tube of chapstick in his house but he must use something. She nudges at them with her mouth as she steps closer so that she's pressed against him from breasts to thighs and she sighs in relief as he finally responds. One arm wraps around her waist and his hand buries itself in her hair, gathering as much of it as possible and using it to hold her still as he kisses her with hesitant need. It's as if he's afraid she's going to make him stop, or she's going to disappear, or maybe he thinks this is a dream and he doesn't want to wake up.

She reassures him by opening her own mouth slightly, allowing her tongue to sneak out and taste the line of his lips. 'Chapstick definitely.' He tastes like strawberry. Of course he also tastes like the scotch he's been drinking, as well as something earthy that's probably his sweat.

Her own hand comes up to lock behind his back at the beginning curve of his ass. The pants he's wearing are loose and a little bit baggy, which leaves her with a tempting amount of access to a very wide expanse of skin.

"Pepper," he says again and her eyes narrow.

"I told you, Stark, _be quiet_." She flattens her hand against the small of his back and slides the tips of her fingers under the waistband of his pants. He shudders again and his mouth opens a little, and she takes full advantage deepening the kiss and arching against him. Words aren't necessary, and she doesn't want to hear them. She can feel that he's aroused and growing more so, and it's clear enough it's because of her. That's enough for now.

"You have two options here, Stark. Fuck me or fuck me." His eyes widen and his lips part even further, and she slips her tongue inside. A moment later he's fighting back, though thank god not pushing her away. Instead his hand drops from her waist to her bottom and the one in her hair drops to join its mate and haul her - still sans her heels - up against his swelling erection.

The pressure is wonderful; they both groan in relief.

She sucks on his tongue when he thrusts it into her mouth and his entire body jolts and becomes tense. Clearly she just pushed him to the edge of his reasoning capabilities, which only leaves her smug and adrift in a sea of feminine power.

"Bedroom, now," she breathes into his ear once they both break away to catch their breath.

"Are you..."

Her hand comes up to cover his mouth. "What did I tell you about talking?!" she murmurs warningly again.

He snorts in disbelief but pivots to carry her obediently down the hallway. He's officially done with words after that, though he finds plenty of other uses for his mouth…several of which Pepper suspects are going to require covering with makeup in the morning.

He tries to put her down on the bed, but she wants none of that. Instead she wiggles until he sets her down on he feet, then pushes _him_ down, watching as he bounces against the mattress a couple of times before she reaches behind her and pulls down the zipper to her dress. When she lowers her arms, the entire thing slides off almost in slow motion.

His eyes follow its path to the floor and she can see him swallow hard as her body and skimpy underwear are revealed. She wonders if the ruby red shade is fortuitous or if she'd unconsciously been planning this from the beginning.

He opens his mouth and she frowns at him, once more shoving at his shoulders as she climbs onto his lap. It's only when he's lying on his back under her that she starts letting her hands roam over his exposed chest.

"Condoms!" he finally manages to spit out between mutually exchanged kisses. "Main dresser, bottom middle drawer." He's reaching for the clasp on the front of her bra as he says it.

Pepper wonders if she wants to stop that long to get them. She's on birth control and they're both clean. But she also doesn't know if it's worth the fuss he might make if she doesn't get one.

"You want to swim Potts, you get the fucking life jackets." Tony's jaw clenches tightly, as if he's reading her mind.

She rolls her eyes and goes to retrieve them, discovering in the time that it takes to get there and halfway back that he's regained his feet and gone to working kicking out of his pants.

She watches him just as openly as he'd watched her, swallowing hard as his pants slip past his pelvis. Now, she's seen her boss naked before, and she's seen him naked and aroused, but this is different. Because today she's the only woman in the house and she intends to be the only one who'll ever be here again. It doesn't stop her from instinctively growling, or Tony from blatantly smirking at the approving sound.

He quirks a finger and motions her over wordlessly.

For a moment she balks - 'Like hell' - and then she changes her mind and stalks forward, stopping just out of reach. Her brow arches at him with more than a little arrogance.

The edge of his lips curve up, all though he still doesn't say anything though in his eyes she can see the unmistakable challenge: 'Turning _chicken_ on me, Pepper?'

She brushes at her neck with one finger, fondling the hicky he's left there. Her fingers slowly trail down her neck, across her chest, and then - while holding his gaze - she finishes releasing the clasp of her bra. The scrap of silk floats to the floor and she waits for him to break and look.

His fists tighten at his side but his eyes stay strictly above her shoulders. She wonders at that moment how bad he is at losing. She figures it'll be fun finding out.

She grins at him - leers may be more like it - as she primly takes a seat on the edge of the bed and crosses her legs. Then of course she leans back, bracing herself on her elbows and waits. Sooner or later he's going to look.

She grins when he breaks, but she also underestimates his actual goal in the situation: namely to get her on the bed with him beside her instead of beneath. He crosses to where she's leaning back and leans forward to kiss her before reaching down to cup her breast and lightly twist her stiffening nipple. Her gasp breaks the silence in the room, but is quickly followed by his moan as she grabs his shoulders and digs in with her nails.

In rebuttal his touch grows suddenly impossibly gentle, until it's nearly feather light. Then his head dips a little to start trailing nipping kisses down the length of her whole collarbone.

Pepper sighs and shivers and arches up into him before relaxing back into the bed. He's laying to the side of her and it's frustrating because she wants to feel his weight on top of her. If he wants to lead that's really okay with her, as long as he doesn't stop. Tony though, seems almost reluctant to either hurry up or put any weight on her at all.

His chest in particular he's carefully keeping from touching her directly. His hands and lips, though, are eagerly roving her body.

She reaches for him, tugs at his shoulders, but he's heavy and obstinate and doesn't move an inch. He doesn't even look up at her until she growls at him.

"Something wrong?" He suckles her right nipple gently.

For a moment she loses her train of thought and she arches into his mouth. But then her need to feel more of him comes surging back, stronger than ever. Her hand finds his hair and tightens painfully until he hisses and meets her eyes. His are black and hot and a touch pissed off. "What is your problem, Potts?"

"I need _more_," she informs him slowly and simply.

"Anything in specific?" His expression softens as he scoots back enough to adjust their position to suit her fancy. "I'm happy to take special requests, but you have to speak up."

She doesn't answer aloud, just half turns and presses against him again, sighing a little in contentment at the sensation of skin on skin. He responds by shifting onto his side so that they can lie front to front, throwing his free leg over her upper thigh and letting his hands trail down her back in maddening patterns. Face to face now, she tilts her head and slants her mouth across his again. Kissing him could become dangerously addictive, especially since she can't find a reason _not_ to.

His hand dips lower, until he's cupping her bottom, and he smiles against her mouth as the move makes her shudder. "Condoms," he repeats again softly, squeezing her ass as she does.

She groans. "Tony, I'm on the pill. I appreciate your concern, but it's really not necessary."

He shakes his head. "Yes, it is for at least another seven months." He sighs a little then buries his face in her hair. "I'm not paranoid as a rule, but I also don't know how sterile the medical people were when they put the electromagnet in me. _I'm not risking you_."

He can feel her breathing heavily, but her arms eventually loosen enough for him to pull away. The box is on the floor by the bed, he bends over to retrieve it, ripping one end open and dumping a shiny foil packet into his hand. "How do you want to do this?" He pivots to face her again.

"Hmm, let me think about that... Preferably I'd like to do this well." She looks at him as if he's an idiot. Really, at this point positioning is secondary to having him inside her. "Stop over-thinking everything! Anything will be fine."

He snorts a little and settles for sitting against the headboard, taking a pillow and settling it behind the small of his back before applying the condom and reaching out his hand. "Don't want to crush you. Or scratch you with this. So this way is probably best." He uses the hand he hasn't extended to rap on his chest plate.

Then he motions with his extended hand.

"Tony...you're aware it vibrates, right?" She smirks at him as she slips off her panties and crawls up his legs. "At this point I'd say that's only to your advantage."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm pleased to be your walking vibrator then." She presses her lips to his neck with the intention of giving him at least one hickey in return for the ones spotting her neck and collarbone.

He groans under the touch, hands still tracing her back. "Bitch moan whine," he says as he shifts her on his lap a little and starts rocking forward and back, she suspects unawaredly.

"You had your chance," she says unapologetically as she starts moving with him. "Deal with it."

She suspects that the first time they come could literally be from mutual dry humping.

It'd be a shame to waste a perfectly good orgasm like that though, so Pepper braces herself against Tony's shoulders and lifts up on her knees. They both let out soft sounds of pleasure as her hips tilt and he slides into her. Not fully, just enough to tease.

Tony's head thumps back against the headboard, but to her surprise, he makes no smartaleck comments, instead he simply waits for her to set her own pace. She lifts up and readjusts her angle before settling back down. Her fingers spasm on his shoulders and her breath catches in her throat as she tortures them both by taking her time. It's been such a long time, and the way Pepper can feel her body stretching around his is so erotic that she can't help the small whimpers that pour out of her throat until he's all the way inside her and she's afraid to move because this is just too perfect.

"So tight." Tony shudders. "So fucking _perfect_." His hands settle on her hips and gently encourage her to speed up the pace. The way he shifts her hips slightly inward also makes it so each deep downward thrust directly impacts her g-spot. She curses softly under her breath as her head drops back on her neck and she starts to move not only faster, but harder.

"That's it...just like that..." He bends forward to capture a nipple again, this time licking it once before suckling firmly. She can feel the desire swell as the act seems to tug some invisible chord down where he's buried inside of her.

His hands are supporting her - one between her shoulder blades and one at the small of her back. She drags the latter between them, working it until her hand is positioned behind his and she can show him exactly how she wants him to rub her clit.

He's a quick study with an amazing ability to read her face. He learns the rhythm perfectly and then when her hand pulls away, improvises in a way that makes it impossibly _better_. "Come on, Pep." He grins a little. "I know you want to come for me."

Her hands fumble over him as she reaches behind her to brace herself on his thighs. Her eyes slip shut as she does as he tells her and tries to find her release. It's been so long since she's been in this position that for a moment she's afraid her body's actually forgotten.

But just as she's starting to get frustrated, he shifts her hips again and twists as his own hips as he thrusts upwards, and her orgasm shivers through her like a silk dress slipping off of bare skin.

Her thrusts fall apart into a sloppy rhythm, and then stop altogether as she fights to keep herself upright. Every muscle in her body is deliciously warm and relaxed, leaving her feeling better than she has in months. Hell, maybe even years.

However, as she slowly becomes aware of her surroundings again, she's surprised to feel Tony still hard and buried inside her. "Tony?" She blinks several times - she refuses to say her eyes flutter- and she forces her heavy head up so that she can look at him.

The look he gives her is tenderness mixed with carefully controlled need. "Feeling a little bit better are we?"

"You could say that." She wraps tired arms around his neck and pulls, leaning back into it when he resists. "Damnit, Tony. Would you just put me on my back already? I promise my tetanus shots are all up to date."

He snickers softly. "For your information, I'm enjoying the view. But if you _insist_..." He eases her back against the mattress, groaning in regret when the act separates their bodies in the process. To her surprise though he doesn't move to automatically re-enter her again, instead he starts at the patch of skin beneath her right ear and begins kissing downwards slowly.

"Tony? What are you doing?" The words aren't demanding, merely curious and asked in a tired voice as her head falls to the side to give him more room to work.

"You may have been in a hurry, Pepper, but _I_ prefer to take my time." He smiles against her skin. "After all, you haven't been the only one stuck in sexual neutral for forever."

She yawns deeply. "Yeah well, I've been up eighteen hours, Tony, so good luck keeping me awake for that much longer."

"Selfish bitch whines and moans," he says teasingly against her neck. "I think I can manage to keep you awake, Pep." Then one hand slides down the length of her body and tangles in her pubic hair at the same time he leans forward enough to suckle a nipple. "And if not...well it's a good thing it's officially Friday. Last day before the weekend."

"Tony..." She laughs disbelievingly. "You have two early meetings in the morning."

He snorts. "Pepper, this is the textbook reason why God invented caffeine. Besides," she feels him grin against the curve of her stomach. "Tomorrow's eight a.m. meeting has been delayed until next week. The people in R&D need to run a few more simulations."

"You still have to finish meeting with the investors," she reminds him. "They're all nearly convinced you're sane and responsible finally. You can't afford to screw that up."

"The investors also asked to reschedule, since several of them have the flu. Jake really should have avoided that group retreat, he was still recovering last week." He grins at her briefly before he settles between her legs. "Remind me to send them all fruit baskets or something."

"Jake?" She doesn't know anyone by the name in investments. "Or...you mean Jean Paul...because the bugs in France are different than here, I suppose. That's probably why it's hitting people so hard." Her legs move restlessly, finally closing around his torso and squeezing.

Tony tenses for a moment, as if she's electrocuted him by saying the name. "No not Pierre. 'Jake'...as is Jacob Whitman. A new intern in the department." He bends forward a little stiffly again to kiss her hip, but a blind man could see the fact that she's shattered the mood.

God, how had they gotten from new investors to interns? It wasn't fair of him to disregard conversational protocols when she wasn't able to follow his tangents. She sighs deeply and slides her hand into his hair to try and stroke his head, though it doesn't seem to help matters.

"Tony... " The silence in the room is now strained and fragile. But then she has just mentioned the man she'd threatened to sleep with to the man she actually had. "Jean and I tonight...well I don't need to tell you that nothing actually _happened_."

He studiously doesn't look up, just traces the line of her hip with one finger. "As you've already stated, Pepper, it's really none of my business."

He sounds so…accepting of the fact that it actually makes her feel sick.

Her legs loosen around him and she pulls them back as sits up. They're on top of the covers so there's nothing to do about the nakedness thing, but it's nearly two in the morning, and she's hardly up for this conversation, much less to having it with her legs spread wide. It makes her fear exposed.

Not as vulnerable apparently though, as the man on the bed.

"Tony…"

He cuts her off. "Look...it's really okay."

'No it's not. Not in any decent world.'

Tony's not done though. "Look… Let's just let it go. The mood's killed and we both need the sleep."

She wants to protest but there's no good way to do so. He just looks so damn defeated. Which she doesn't understand. There's no way to fix things right now under these circumstances though, so she nods a little. "Alright." And then she rolls out of bed and starts searching for her clothes.

"Pepper...?" His voice is almost...hesitant. "I didn't mean you have to leave. You can…You're welcome to stay here." He climbs out of bed. "I can...one of us can even take one of the guest rooms, you always keep a spare suit here and there's plenty of sweats to sleep in, in the closet..."

"Tony..." She runs a hand through her disheveled hair. "I'm not going to put you out of your bed. Yes, I have a suit here, but no clean underwear and no makeup, so I would still have to be up in three hours to go home and get ready for work. This is just...easier...if I leave now."

Besides, she might be the first woman to outright murder Tony's Stark's libido. She needs some time to recover from that. "I promise that I'll see you tomorrow."

He nods a little. "I should be here most of the day, then. With all the meetings canceled I see no reason to go into the office. I've got plenty of work here"

She nods in return, never actually meeting his eyes.

Bypassing underwear entirely, she steps into her dress and reaches behind her to pull up the zipper. "I um…I'll probably spend the morning at the office. I'm still trying to catch up on a few things, but I'd been planning to get here around noon. Call me if you want me to pick up lunch or anything."

He nods again, though of course this time she doesn't see him. When she walks from the room its on slightly shaky legs.

She unlocks her car with trembling fingers, slides into the drivers seat and pulls the door shut then she folds her arms and rests her head on the steering wheel. "Shit," she whispers under her breath, repeating it several times for emphasis before she breathes in deeply and lets the air out slowly. Then she raises her head and reaches for the ignition.

This is bad. No, this is disastrous. This is eight years of her life probably straight down the tubes on one stupid, thoughtless comment. This is every reason she's never allowed herself to let herself consider being Tony Stark's lover.

Maybe they can fix this. Maybe she can apologize. Maybe they can just both sleep, get up tomorrow and pretend that none of this even happened.

She snorts. They can pretend all they want, but neither of them is going to forget it. It's going to be the elephant in the room from now until they get through the painful business of talking about it. And if they don't, it's going to be the elephant in the room that crowds them both completely out of it.

They need to talk. Oh lord they need to talk, but the whole sleep part of the idea is probably equally necessary though.

She forces herself to start the car and start down the driveway. She's almost all the way home before she realizes he hadn't as much as said goodbye.

'Lovely, Virginia. This is a new record. You not only busted into his house and demanded random sex, but you weren't even smart enough to shut your mouth until he could at least get a little relief of his own. You rubbed your earlier argument in his face and then…'

And then she'd gathered her clothes and _left_. Because of course "she's free to go wherever she wants, and while she's doing that she might as well drop her dress by the dry cleaners."

God, she is so _stupid_.

'See,' she lectures herself. 'This is where following impulse gets you.'

There's only one way in hell of stopping this train wreck, she finally acknowledges.

She fucked it up and now she has to go back.

Her first instinct is to simply turn around, but she forces herself to drive the rest of the way to her apartment, where she brews a pot of coffee, drinks two cups and packs a bag, She's going back tonight, yes, because she refuses to be one of the other women in his life.

The coffee will keep her awake just long enough to go back to the mansion, that's all that's really necessary. 'And when you get there?' She shrugs to herself. It'll be a crapshoot whether she'll even be welcomed back in his bed if she even convinces herself to get that far.

This is _such_ a bad idea. Even after a shower and another cup of coffee - and well hell, she might as well get dressed - she's terrified because to date her track record with working on impulse 0-2, and that's just in the last twenty-four hours.

First the thing with Jean, and then with Tony...

But the only thing she honestly regrets is hurting Tony.

She doesn't regret the date with Jean.

Or going to Tony's house.

Or sleeping with him.

Just hurting him.

Which leads her back to her bedroom where she opens the door to her walk-in closet, and into the back where there's half a rack of things she bought while thinking of Tony but had sworn never to wear in front of him. Other men, sure. But not him.

It's such a stupid, meaningless double standard. Wearing for other men what she bought for one man. And here she is again in a black suit. At least the dress had it's hemline to recommend it. This had nothing, and she'd bought it for the rest of the world to see but mainly wore it around Tony.

"Suck it up, Potts," she mutters to herself as she undresses again and goes into the bathroom. She washes her face clean and starts her makeup all over, applying a happy medium between office appropriate and date appropriate. Then she goes back to the closet and picks out something new, a lighter than mint green blouse and a pair soft black slacks that seem to flow off her hips straight to the floor. The shoes she picks out are unusually ornate for her, black with flowers worked down their sides in paler than pastel silk embroidery thread.

After taking three minutes to pull her still wavy from the shower hair into a loose chignon - and teasing a few strands out in agitation - Pepper goes back to her bedroom and repacks her bag. It's the weekend. She might as well spend it with Tony, and _she_ means to spend it with Tony. Not Ms. Potts, or the even more intimidating "Potts," but her.

This makes a swimsuit, and sunscreen, and a few good books to read mandatory. Also mandatory is something other than the cotton underwear she'd thrown on to comfort herself, and something better than worn cotton t-shirts and tank tops to sleep in.

Maybe. The bag can stay in the car once she gets to Tony's. She doesn't want to seem presumptuous.

But that doesn't mean she can't plan ahead.

Finally Pepper straightens, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She's tall - well, there was never any way she was going to be able to disguise that. Tony is just out of luck there. - and collected, and soft, and dignified. And also damn determined. She'll get as much work done as possible when she gets to Tony's house because if he's asleep or in his workshop then she is chicken enough for him to come to her rather than the other way around.

But when he does come to her, they're _going_ to talk.

The office can wait. As hard as it is going to be, when he wakes in the morning he's going to find her at least _in the house_.

And she's going to have to make some things absolutely clear, including the fact that his surrender on the Jean Paul issue was not the kind of sacrifice she was going to accept from him.

She'd accused him of having only meaningless flings, and then he had acquiesced without a fight when she'd treated him exactly like one.

For the first time Pepper wonders if he's as worried about getting lost in her as she is about being lost in him. 'You judge him very harshly. Time to start judging yourself.' She had to admit how they'd gotten here. And the plain truth of the matter is that she's been angry at him for a long time: for his habitual selfishness, for his tendency to make decisions impulsively without considering the consequences.

But perhaps that anger has blinded her to a subtler kind of evil: one that blames too easily, and justifies a with-holding of self because what's in offer isn't pristine or uncomplicated enough for her tastes.

After all Tony is impulsive yes, but he isn't stupid. He has to know the ways that this thing between them could fail, and yet he's been willing to make himself vulnerable...to bet on a chance.

And that…that was more courage then she's ever shown him.

Her first step to fixing this would have to be admitting it.

69696969696

It shouldn't be this hard.

In fact, this should make his life easier.

"This" involves a woman who leaves before the sheets get cold. "This" involves no messy clean-up, no sneaking out of his own room, and no five AM calls to Pepper.

However, "this" involves Pepper, and Pepper leaving, so of course it's just about the hardest damn thing he's ever gone though in his life.

He's not going to sleep, and for a guy who'd had a touch too much Scotch because he'd started before the sun set, he's feeling too sober. Tony rolls out of bed - no point in staying in it - and pulls on the first clothes his hands find. This involves a sweatshirt and a pair of dirty jeans that have a scrap of red silk lying on top of them. It's funny how a first can also include non-firsts.

She's not the first woman to leave without her underwear. She is the first woman he's ever asked to actually stay.

He absently sticks them in his pocket as he walks out of the bedroom. He picks up his glass from earlier and the bottle Scotch that's still open from the coffee table in the living room, then goes downstairs. His first instinct is to start working on the hotrod, but as he stands there and sips on watered down, room temperature alcohol, he sighs and searches for another project. The ruined Shelby against the far wall, away from his Ironman platform and his still functioning cars, catches his eyes.

Sure, why the hell not? Like calls to like. Unfortunately, it only takes him ten minutes to realize something else. There's a reason he'd always kept his flings out of the basement.

Pepper, though...Pepper is everywhere down here. His sanctuary is broken.

He heads back upstairs, unsure what else to do, trying to find one place in the whole house he's never seen her enter. Some place that will be free of her spectre. He ends up in the third floor attic space in a storage section he hasn't been in for years. He sets the bottle down at his feet and pulls the pair of panties out.

'What do I do...?'

That question is aimed at the red silk in particular. What he's supposed to do about everything else is just too over whelming to deal with at the moment.

If this were anyone else's underwear...well usually when Pepper found them, he assumed she just threw them out. 'Not like anyone ever came back looking.' At least not most of the time. Maybe Pepper kept a lost and found somewhere in her office, just in case.

He supposes he can just leave them on top of her desk or something. Whatever gets them out of his eyesight and back to their owner with the least amount of actual acknowledgement will be acceptable to him. He inhales a little roughly though, because the thought of sneaking around his own house in order to avoid her makes him almost physically sick. It certainly feels like a physical thing clawing at his insides.

Pepper is reserved, and Pepper is the queen of self-restraint, and Pepper is responsible. But she's also always been transparent to him. She doesn't hide things, doesn't disguise things, and doesn't lie.

Well, not a lot.

She might not volunteer the information he's looking for half the time, but if pressed she'd usually reveal some of it. And most of the time he can look at her and figure out what's going on in that head of hers. Maybe not why, but he can usually figure out what.

And he's never hidden from her. Never hidden anything, really. He doesn't want to start now but when she refuses to let him in anymore, what else can he do? If he doesn't hide, she'll leave.

And he can't do this…he can't play this game of cat and mouse.

Last night was a mistake. It kills him to say it, but it's the truth nonetheless. It was a mistake - the probable death knell of their relationship in fact. He'd slept with a woman he's in love with who can't or won't say the same thing of him.

The irony doesn't entirely escape him. Instead it just leaves him tired, trying to figure out how to handle the inevitable. He wonders if she'd been drunk too, and that's why she'd seemed so out of character. Only that first kiss had been anything like what he'd expected.

His thoughts come in a fragmented order, jerky and grainy, like an old silent film running through a projector that's on its last legs. He doesn't know how long he sits there trying to figure out how to fix things. He'd probably have more luck building a time machine in order to go back and keep himself from sleeping with her, he concludes.

Tony finds out something new that morning, or at least he thinks it's new: his AI can clear its throat.

"Sir...Ms. Potts has arrived at the house and she is enquiring whether or not you're home. She very much wants to speak with you. What would you like me to tell her?"

He blinks. 'She came back? Here?' He just doesn't know what to make of that.

"Did she give any indication why she is here?"

"She is currently logging into the Stark Industries server remotely. I appears she's getting an early start on the workday, Sir."

He considers this a moment. Tries to suppress any hurt. 'So business as usual...' Is that what he's left with? Apparently so. She'll kiss him and let him inside her body, but she won't consent to even sleep beside him.

He sighs a little - because right now this is too much. If she's choosing to be his secretary over his lover...then fine, she can have what she wants. "Tell her that I'm sleeping things off and that when I wake up I plan to work all day on a couple of side projects."

He goes over to the stack of boxes in the corner and starts reading labels. If he's right this room had mainly his parents old things – things he'd moved in here from previous storage. That should mean there are enough blankets he can make a pallet of sorts for himself on the floor. He may be able to sleep up here. Unlike in the bedroom that still smells like sex and them.

He makes up a makeshift bed, and does his best to just sleep.

Pepper works through breakfast, getting more work done than should be possible. She keeps her mind rigidly disciplined on the screen in front of her as she clears up e-mails, finally tracks down the order that Tony placed, and works through one last set of spreadsheets for the investors when they finally meet for their last meeting. Then she makes a PowerPoint presentation to go with it. Only after spellchecking it does she look up and groan both as the muscles complain and as she sees the clock.

It's past noon. She hasn't seen hide nor hair of Tony. On top of that she's starving and she's tired. Last night is finally catching up.

She's sore in all kinds of unfamiliar places in her body.

Reluctantly, Pepper sets her computer aside and turns it to standby. She makes herself something quick to eat, and consumes it without noticing what she's putting in her mouth. Then she straightens her blouse and brushes hands wet with nervous sweat over her thighs.

He hasn't come to her. That means it's up to her to go to him.

She wearily walks to the bedroom and knocks on the half-closed door. "Tony? I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." The room is empty when she enters.

Pepper stares at the empty bed, covers rumpled but still in place. "Jarvis? Is Tony still in the house?" Pepper pushes the door open the rest of the way and goes over to the bed. She smoothes the blankets back into place and straightens the pillows as she waits for a reply.

"I'm afraid Mr. Stark has asked me not to release that information, Ms. Potts."

Pepper glances down at herself to see if she's still in one piece - when has Tony ever been anywhere where he's out of reach of her? - and sees her new clothes. Once again is reminded of what a fraud she is.

"Jarvis, the entire house has been wired for sound, correct?" Maybe she's a fraud, and maybe she's a coward, and maybe she's just much too late. But that doesn't give her a get out of jail free card.

"Yes, Ms. Potts."

"Okay. Turn it all on, please."

Pepper walks over to the intercom button on the wall and presses it lightly. She draws in a deep breath and then says, "Tony...I'm so sorry. I'm just...if you can hear me, then I just want you to know that I was out of line, and unfair to you, and I'm so sorry. I just...if you want me to leave, just tell me. Or have Jarvis tell me. I thought coming back was the right thing to do, but if it wasn't, I'll go." Her voice is shaky, and a little hoarse because she hasn't said anything in hours and she's still getting over a cold, and her words are weak and lame, but it's the best she can do.

There's a pause of several seconds before Jarvis speaks. "Ms Potts, I believe very much he would want to hear that so he can give fair response, but he is currently both deeply and unarousably asleep."

Her forehead wrinkles. "Jarvis, the bedroom is empty. And so is the basement."

"Third level. Storage attic. Please try not to wake him if it can be avoided. He only finally managed to fall asleep an hour ago and he seemed greatly exhausted..."

Fine. Great. She needs a nap too. Pepper goes back into the bedroom and picks up several pillows and the comforter, and carries them all up to the third floor. When she reaches the attic it's to find a deeply sleeping Tony, clad only in boxers, stretched out on the floor. He's lying on his stomach on a pallet of blankets...old ones too if the smell of mothballs is any indication.

There's a large open box to her right that seems to hold even more bedding, and seeing the opportunity, she retrieves three or four additional ones to make herself an identical pallet, so she can cuddle up beside him. It's a testament to his drunken exhaustion that Tony doesn't stir once, not even when she finishes layering the bedding in the spot right beside him, lays down and covers them both with the coverlet she brought from downstairs.

It's a little weird she realizes, to be here, to be able to just lay close enough and just study him. "Jarvis?" she whispers as she reaches out and lightly places her hand over his. "When he wakes up, play a recording of that message if you have one."

She wants to leave those instructions before she falls asleep. And until then she wants to stare at and memorize the face that's just inches from her own.

"Is that if he wakes first, or if he wakes at all?" The AI asks equally softly for clarification.

"If he wakes and I don't." He has insanely long eyelashes, and his nose is such a smooth slope that she wants to run her finger along it just to remember the geometry of it.

"Request logged." The rooms lights dim. "Sleep well, Ms Potts."

"Thank you." The room goes dark, though not completely. Once her eyes adjust, she can still make Tony's face. She stares at it hungrily until she falls asleep too.

And for the first time in a long time, things might be where they actually should be.


	2. Chapter 2

Even in his sleep his body and mind somehow know the presence of the woman he's in love with.

It's hard to describe, in fact he's not even sure he wants to try. It's a little cliché to say, but he's always been unusually attuned to her effect - the way things change when she's close by. It's arousal, yes, but also more than that.

It's the way he breathes deeper, thinks easier, works faster than he does when she's not there...

It's just the Pepper effect, and like the tide it pulls him under. And so, half asleep, Tony turns towards the woman laying by his side and wraps himself around her, half aware that she responds by snuggling up to him. In her sleep she's warm and malleable, two descriptors he would rarely apply to her while she's awake.

That she's not supposed to be there doesn't register in his mind. What registers is her smell, and the soft in and out of her breathing, the way her breasts, even covered, are pressed up tight against his own chest.

She's here and, only half awake, he doesn't question the gift.

Instead he drags his hand up and down her back, smiling a little at the feel of silk, not cool but warm with the heat of her body. Tony has always admired the length of Pepper's back, its subtle curve as she held her shoulders perfectly straight. There's give and take to her back. He's equally attached to the gently curving slope of the bottom right below.

Pepper murmurs a little as his hand grazes almost mindlessly over her ass, hips wriggling in a little closer as she lets out a moan. Instinctively he starts trailing soft kisses down the curve of her shoulder toward her collarbone. She shudders a little, but makes no move to pull away.

Her shudder causes him to instinctively pull her closer, and without paying much attention, his fingers find the line of buttons down the front of her shirt and slowly start pulling them loose. He doesn't make it too far past her chest before she sighs under him and his hand slides along her ribcage.

Then her head comes up instinctively, lips blindly seeking for a kiss at the same time her hands start trailing across the planes of his back. It's a bit of a wake-up call for Tony, who freezes for an instant before he starts kissing her back. The act makes him shaky - even a little bit dizzy. As it finally registers: she's actually here.

This is not a dream. This is Pepper Potts in living, breathing flesh.

And not just Pepper here, but Pepper kissing him despite the humiliation of earlier. Pepper warm and relaxed in his arms. Pepper being all she really needs to be to get him through his day.

He doesn't know what god is showing him favor, maybe there's more than one.

He kisses her, determined not to ask.

His tongue swipes over her lower lip before pushing a little desperately into the hot recesses of her mouth. A moan bubbles out of her throat and her fingers tense in his shoulders. He thinks she might be awake, but can't bring himself to truly find out. He just needs to...be...with her. If that includes sex, he's not going to argue, but even if it doesn't...

God, just being near her is enough. Even if she were still stilted and awkward and cold as she'd been as she left, just being near her would still be enough to put him at ease.

Earlier in the night had just seemed to go so fast. His mind had been slightly hazy - probably the effects of too much alcohol. Now though he's clear minded and fueled by sleep and plain old lust. His body knows this dance.

His body knows her...even after their awkward introduction his hands are instinctively seeking out the now known sensitive spots.

Her fingers are kneading the muscles in his back as she presses impossibly closer. He can feel her nipples pressing against his chest through her clothing. As he gently caresses her thigh where it just meets her bottom he reluctantly pulls away from her mouth.

"Pepper," he whispers in her ear, because as much as he needs her, if this is going to go any farther that he needs to know that she's awake, and a willing participant.

It strikes him then that he's only in an old pair of boxers. Which is totally unfair because she's fully dressed.

As soon as he gets a go ahead, that's the first thing that's going to change.

"Tony," she whispers back on a shiver as her thigh slides along the outside of his.

He shivers a little himself at the silken feel of her still on thigh-highs. "Are you..." He doesn't finish the sentence, it's lost in a gasp as her hips arch into him a little harder, pressing right into his growing erection.

"Yes," she murmurs back, her lips brushing against his cheek as her hips move against him again and her head falls back.

Then he's kissing her neck a little more roughly, groaning at the implicit permission and he lets his lips drop lower and lower toward the swells of her breasts. "You are wearing _way_ too many clothes." He jerks a little as her fingertips start to play with the waistband along the back of his boxers. This will be over embarrassingly fast if he doesn't pull himself together.

So he reaches behind him and gently pulls her hands away before tugging gently at the fabric of her waist of her pants. "Where's the clasp for this thing?" He's undone the button, but they're still firmly closed and frankly he can't process well enough to figure this out on his own.

Fortunately her hands push his out of the way, and then she's wiggling under him as she slides the waistband of her slacks past her hips. It takes a little bit of undignified squirming to get them down and past her knees and then over her feet. Tony actually growls in frustration and she giggles as she kicks them free.

Then she's kissing him again, and he can feel the full length of those silky thigh highs rubbing against his legs as she shifts underneath him.

Still the blankets are bunched on her side of the makeshift bed and it can't be comfortable, so he instinctively locks his arms around her shoulders and his legs wrap around her legs before he rolls them both so she's lying on top of him while he's lying on his back.

She makes a sound that he equates with her being impatient, but she makes no other reaction that leads him to believe that she's actually unhappy. Or at least, not until she rolls them again and then wraps herself around him like an octopus when she's got him on top of her.

He chuckles softly. "I take it you want me on top?" He leans off of her upper body enough to resume unbuttoning the front of her shirt when her grip finally loosens.

She nods a little as a hot flush covers her face. He winks at her gamely before freeing the last button. "I can live with that. This time." Then he's staring in wonder as he eases apart the front panels of her shirt.

She's staring up at him, waiting for his reaction as if she hasn't already seen everything she has to offer. And well, he admits she kind of has a reason to watch. White cotton should appear innocent, but not this white cotton. Not with what it's doing for her cleavage.

"I'm _never_ looking at Hanes the same way again," he murmurs reverently before encouraging her to arch up just enough he can reach around to the clasp.

He doesn't remember this much tenderness the last time he touched her breasts. Doesn't remember the lovely blush that spreads downward from her face. He certainly doesn't remember the salty sweetness of her skin.

She gasps at the first kiss, close-mouthed beside her right nipple. He blows on the hardening nub before kissing her again, right on the opposite side. Then he brushes the peak with just the tip of his tongue.

"Tony!" Her hands tangle in his hair, hold him over her breast. One of her feet is rubbing up and down his calf and he gets the strangest mental image of them sitting at a table, in a meeting that's gone on for far too long, playing footsie to pass the time. It's something he...wants.

God, he is so fucking lost when it comes to this woman. Lost, and perfectly happy to be so.

"I'm not the only one wearing too many clothes," she murmurs, taking the opportunity to slide her hands under the waistline of his well-worn boxers. Her hands on his ass are enough to make him groan.

"You're still wearing more than me," he sighs as he starts moving against her in the rhythm her hands urge him into. "Your socks are longer."

"Then lets both just get naked," is her simple reply.

He nods and a second later they're both freeing themselves from one more barrier, bits of cotton and nylon flying in who knows what direction across the attic. A moment later they're pressed skin to skin again, and he sighs in relief at the feel of her softness. "God, you so _totally _put the curves on my Cobra to shame."

"Your wrecked Cobra?" Pepper asks, pushing him away the smallest bit and raising one eyebrow just a fraction of an inch.

His smile is....evil. "Yeah. I'm gonna have a ball loving her back into her previous shape."

She rolls her eyes, but her lips are also pursed like she's trying not to smile.

And Tony seems to sense it, because he waggles his eyebrows. "Seriously, Potts. Restoration makes me hot. It's my favorite way to spend a free evening."

"Why am I not surprised?" she murmurs as she strokes one finger down the side of his face.

He shivers at the feel, and then his eyes slip shut for a moment. When he opens them again, they're full of tenderness and mirth. "So..." he says speculatively. "Same deal as with the socks for...?" He gestures down to the last scraps of fabric that cover both of them.

"Okay." She nods softly and her fingers pluck at the comforter still lying haphazardly over them, like she's glad for the small covering.

Tony's expression is both tender and protective. "You getting cold?" he asks her carefully.

"A little." She glances at him as if he's made her suddenly self aware. "But I've always liked snuggling under a blanket on a cool day."

He nods, then pulls her in close for a moment, as if to let him soak in his heat. "You're like a portable furnace," she murmurs in contentment.

Tony snickers. "Men as a rule tend to put out more thermal energy through their skin."

"Mmm..." The tip of her nose brushes back and forth against his chest.

He sighs in contentment, lets his hands wander across the muscles of her back, delighting in the freckled skin. Eventually his hands encounter the waist of her panties, and like her with him, slip easily beneath, finding the place where she's the warmest. "Of course you're not doing to bad yourself."

Her breath hitches, pauses, and then escapes in a hot rush that flows against his chest. Pepper's hands find his biceps and dig in lightly; her face is a mask of concentration as she moves carefully against the hand cradling her. She's warm and wet and so responsive that Tony has to close his eyes a second, because all he wants at that moment is_ in_.

"Need to move before I spilt the seams of these boxers," he says in a voice that's both hungry and hoarse. Then he's pulling back just far enough to try and tug them down his legs one handed.

Her hands reach out to help him and her lips find his as they move the fabric out of the way. Then their joined attention turns to her panties which are removed just as easily.

If Pepper's expecting more foreplay than this, Tony figures he'll have to make up for it later. He reaches down to shift one of her legs around his hip before sliding into her with a strangled sort of moan.

"Sorry," he murmurs... though for what he can't even determine. She's just so...right...is the only word. Like finally coming home.

She's still underneath him, her face relaxed and mouth half open as she breathes in deeply. Slowly her eyes open and she looks up at him, and softly breathes out his name. There's such a depth of emotion in her voice that it almost makes up for everything that hadn't been said before.

He does the only thing he can do, he bends down and kisses her again. Lips soft against hers as his hips start gently rocking. He's not even really thrusting all that much, just letting himself get swallowed up in the way that she feels.

Her thighs cradle his hips and her hands sweep over him, from his shoulders to the dip of his spine and back again. When she kisses him it's with the same gentle passion that he's showing. Her scent is strong in his nose, and it seems as if she is everywhere around him.

"Oh God," he murmurs, fists clenching in the sheets to either side of them. Because he's not even moving and he's still going to come.

"It's alright." Her voice is husky in his ear. "It's okay, Tony." As she hitches her legs higher around his waist, Tony's not sure if she's reassuring him or giving him permission to come, and he can't quite bring himself to care.

He vows again to make up for it later.

Three short thrusts - that's all that he manages. Three sharp gasps out of both of them, the last coming out like a prayer. And then he's coming, so hard he wonders for a moment if his heart's going to give out.

Pepper's body moves in a slow wave under him as she groans softly. Then she's holding him, arms and legs still encircling him as he shudders through the last of his orgasm. That anchoring - that sense of connection - is so much more than anything he's ever felt. He's never going to be able to let her go. If he tries he'll be all but literally tearing away pieces of himself.

Luckily for him, she makes no attempt to leave. She rubs a sweaty cheek against his, and presses a kiss to his neck, then settles under him with what sounds very much like a sigh of contentment. Slowly, her legs sink back down to the floor, but she doesn't let go of him. One arm sweeps up and down his back in a soothing rhythm while her other hand starts twirling a lock of his hair around her finger.

'I love you,' he thinks. 'So much I'm completely fucked up in the head.'

"I'm sorry," Pepper finally whispers, though her hand never falters on his back. "It was never my intention to hurt you, Tony. Honestly. I'm sorry my lack of forethought did exactly that. I shouldn't have left earlier." She pauses, and before he can say anything else - he's too stunned to say anything - she adds, "It was wrong. I was wrong."

Words escape him: he can only hope that the way his arms tighten around her almost convulsively is enough of an indication that she has his forgiveness. His whole body is still trembling - and his upper arms are starting to shake with the effort of holding his weight off her chest. He doesn't want to move, but if he stays as he is he's going to crush her.

She hugs him back for a long moment, then her arms loosen and slide down his shoulders. "I'm not going to ask about why you decided to sleep in the attic, but you have more comfortable beds in the house. Do you want to move to another room?"

That finally breaks free his capacity for speech. "This room is full of my parents things, Pep. I come up here to think sometimes. And we can move any damn where that you want."

Pepper brushes his hair out his eyes with gentle fingers. "Well...considering how much sleep we both got last night..." Her smile is lopsided as she trails off. "I think I'm in the mood for a nap, Mr. Stark."

He nods a little and then reluctantly slides away, resisting the urge to groan in disappointment as their bodies disconnect.

"Master bedroom," he murmurs as he climbs to his feet, not even bothering with his clothing. He offers her a hand up, which she takes, pulling the comforter with her, wrapping around herself as she bends down to pick up several pillows.

"I brought these with me," she tells him as she give him the pillows. "I wasn't sure what you had up here."

Tony nods, making no attempt to comment on her sudden need for modesty. Instead he takes the items offered and tucking them under one armpit, uses the other arm to simply take her hand. "Still cold?"

"A little bit."

"Jarvis, please up the temperature in the mansion by seven degrees." His expression is tender as he leans in to kiss her cheek. "You always have been a freeze baby." She smiles and squeezes his hand before yawning.

It doesn't take them long at all to reach the large Master bedroom. "Pick a side." Tony instructs her simply. "Do you want anything to drink? There's a minifridge by the far window. I need to make a quick bathroom stop."

She shakes her head silently as she climbs onto the right side of the bed. The comforter floats out around her as she snuggles underneath it.

Tony disappears into the bathroom just long enough to finish his business, then he walks over to the minfiridge and gulps two waters down thirstily, before heading over to the bed. Pepper's eyes crack open as she watches him climb under the covers with her, then slide shut as she scoots over to press against him.

"Jarvis, unless someone is dying, absolutely no calls for 12 hours. Take a message and tell them we'll call them back later." Tony's own eyes slide shut.

"By then it'll be Saturday," Pepper murmurs. "I don't know about you, but I'm not calling anyone back until Monday. I deserve a weekend now and then." The lightness in her tone, sleepy as it is, indicates she's teasing him.

"I promised Rhodey we could get together sometime this weekend," Tony murmurs, eyes still shut. "Though I'm guessing he won't even call until Sunday."

Her lips twitch against his shoulder and before long her breathing evens out.

Tony lays there, just soaking in the sensation, not particularly tired any longer, but nonetheless bonelessly content.

They will need to talk eventually. But for now, they're both at peace, and he's content.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony jerks upright in his bed, sheets puddling around his waist. He can't say what woke him up, just that he's alone in his bedroom. The pillow next to him still holds the depression left by Pepper's head, but it's cold when he touches it, as is the section of bed next to him.

For the space of a couple seconds it feels like all the air's been sucked right out of his chest.

"Jarvis?" he finally manages to mutter, pulling at the bed sheet, a little amazed at the fact that it actually feels a little cold in the room. "Location on Pepper, please." He tries not to hold his breath.

If she's taken off again he's going to...

He really doesn't know.

"Ms. Potts has been awake for approximately seventy-two minutes and is currently located in the kitchen," the AI recites effortlessly.

The news leaves him a little shaky with relief. "Thank you." He slides out of bed and pads barefooted over to the bathroom, needing a pit stop as well as a quick wash.

He's not sure why just having her out of sight affects him so badly, other than the fact that he can't _stand_ the thought of being just another guy in her eyes. He can't bear to think that she would ever treat him so casually. He needs her on an insanely basic level and she'd managed to trip just about every one of his possessive and insecure tendencies without even trying. Not that he can admit it, at least not at the moment.

He wets a washcloth under the water and regards the man in the mirror just a little bit wryly. "You got a temporary reprieve, Genius. Try not to fuck it up."

He's going to have to go slow because Pepper...well frankly she scares the hell out of him. One minute she's a lioness, and the next she's fleeing his presence like a rabbit.

God, if only he know what the hell his role in all of this was supposed to be, then he could maybe find his feet again. Maybe. A big maybe.

Getting the girl of your dreams and not knowing if you got to keep her was one hell of a sucker punch.

He knows a few things right now. She's currently in his mansion, he's not sure why exactly, and he's not sure for how long. But if he wants to get her to stay, right now he's probably going to have to keep careful watch over his mouth. He _needs_ Pepper to stay. It's the only thing he's certain of.

So he's going to have to let her explain herself if and when she's ready. Even if the wait may kill him.

Tony leaves the bathroom and stalls out as he reaches the door of his bedroom. Based on her behavior the afternoon before, he's betting that Pepper's dressed. And theoretically he can understand the urge to be shyly modest around a new lover. The nice thing to do would be to slip on a least a pair of sweats before going to meet Pepper in the kitchen. The problem is, he's a big fan of beginning as you mean to continue and frankly this is his house and it's Saturday...when he commonly runs around butt naked if that's what he damn well wants.

He shivers a little at the thought. 'Of course right now it's fucking cold.' He raises his voice. "Jarvis, I thought I told you to raise the temperature in the mansion by seven degrees."

There's a moment's silence before the AI replies. "Sir, I did. The thermostat is set for 75 degrees."

Tony blinks at that, and shifts on his feet. "Yeah, well then there's a problem with the heat sensors, because there is no way it is that warm in here."

Another pause. "Sir, according to my diagnostics both the thermostat and the temperature sensors are functioning as normal, however there seems to be a problem with this section of the house's heat circulating fan."

"Lovely." Well that settles what he's going to do with at least part of the rest of his weekend.

He sighs heavily and pulls on a pair of jeans as he leaves the bedroom. Out of all the ways he could spend a Saturday, climbing around in ducts hadn't been on his list. Yeah sure, he can fix the fan. It's not going to be what he'd call fun, but he can fix it.

He heads for the kitchen, speaking into the chilly morning air before he even gets close enough to see Pepper. He doesn't want to startle her or anything. "Hey I'm sorry about the temperature right now. Jarvis just told me that it looks like I need to repair one of the circulating fans…"

Any farther explanation is cut short by the picture she presents standing in front of his stove.

There's a copper skillet in her hands that just about matches the sleek curls her hair hangs in. Her hair is _down_ for once, only pulled back loosely to keep it out of her face as she cooks. The cheeks on that face are flushed a becoming pink above a long line of white neck and further down chest that are exposed by the square cut of her neckline. The sweater itself is a bright, deep turquoise and so fuzzy he has the immediate urge to go over and touch her.

Pepper Potts is wearing _colors_. And as far as he can remember, today isn't a special occasion.

Pepper, meanwhile, smiles at him over her shoulder. "It's okay - I brought along a couple of sweaters." She chews her lower lip and looks at the pan thoughtfully, "So what do you want with your eggs? I chopped up onion, tomato, bell pepper and mushroom. If you want anything in addition to that, you better pull it out of the fridge."

A huge knot inside of him loosens as Pepper reveals that she'd come back with the intention of staying more than just the night. Once again, the relief is so great that he has to find something to do just to give him a few seconds to learn how to be coherent again. Then he walks over the fridge and opens it, digging around until he finds a pack of bacon.

Pepper snorts when he heads over to the stove and produces a pan. "Why don't you let me handle frying that, Stark. After all, you're half naked. A dangerous thing if anything decides to spatter."

"You noticed?" he asks with a teasing leer.

Pepper's strong persona falters for a moment as her eyes flick away from him and her cheeks turn a darker shade of pink. "I noticed," she murmurs before she clears her throat softly. "And I don't know how you're not an icicle standing there like that. I was freezing until ten minutes ago, and I'm wearing long pants and short sleeves."

She doesn't look particularly traumatized by his lack of clothing judging the way she's looking at him. He shrugs a little. "In Afghanistan, the nights got pretty cold...I suppose that I've just developed a higher tolerance to lower temperatures."

"Oh." Pepper meets his eyes carefully, and he can see the set of her shoulders relax slightly as he just sends a reassuring look back. "Here." She offers the large skillet she'd been intending to scramble their eggs in. "Let me handle the bacon. You can cook the eggs."

He nods. "Okay, but you know what, give me a minute to go pull on a sweatshirt first. It's colder in here than in the bedroom and I'm going to have to put on a top anyway, before I go crawling through the vents after we eat."

"You're going to be crawling though the vents?" Pepper raises an eyebrow.

"If I'm going to get the heat fixed I'm going to have to." He groans. "I better not have those damn squirrels crawling around chewing on my exposed wiring again."

"You have squirrels?" Pepper sounds like she's close to laughter. "Where do they live, other than your attic apparently? Not a lot of trees around here, Stark."

Tony snorts. "I used to have blooming bushes on the northwest slope. I uprooted them about seven years ago because they were hosting intruders, but unfortunately their gnawing residents weren't polite enough to move out along with them. Every year the little suckers keeping finding new and annoying ways of getting in."

He just sounds so aggrieved - like he's discussing a particularly annoying relative - that Pepper loses the battle not to laugh. "The great Tony Stark is being outwitted by a couple of bushy tailed rodents? Now that's a story the press should tell. I can just picture the headline in Nation Geographic: the king of technology futilely butts heads with Mother Nature."

"Someone's going to find themselves outwitted here in a moment if she's not careful." Tony reaches out suddenly and pulls Pepper close. Yes, he's going to go put something on so that she's more comfortable, but that doesn't negate his need for a good morning kiss. Thankfully Pepper comes easily - or at least without much awkwardness. His lips are teasing but insistent, and she parts her own readily.

He lets his tongue battle with hers for an extremely long and pleasant moment, then pulls back with a little sigh of regret. "Okay food...and clothes. Go ahead and fry the bacon but leave the eggs. I'll be back in just a minute."

"Alright," she replies softly, her eyes still focused on his lips. Then she swipes her tongue over her own before she turns back to the oven, obviously still half-distracted.

He resists the urge to groan as he pads back toward the bedroom, where he pulls on a dark grey sweatshirt that's balled up in one corner. His repair work clothing isn't exactly glamorous, but at least he won't have to worry about spoiling anything he actually cares about crawling around in the dust.

'Probably best to just throw both these items of clothing out afterwards.' The sweatshirt's so old and thin that it's nearly see through. He'll miss the denims though, more than he really wants to admit.

It's a little bit ironic, considering they only cost him twenty-five dollars at the local Target in college and yet they are _still_ the most comfortable pair of pants he's ever owned.

He pads back through the house in his bare feet. When he enters the kitchen again, Pepper smiles at him over her shoulder before turning back to the bacon he can smell and hear frying. "Did you want toast with this? If not, I was also thinking of pulling out that package of tortillas and making breakfast burritos."

His mouth starts to water. "Mexican sounds awesome. I'll get the salsa."

Her mouth twists in that way it usually does when she's correctly anticipated his needs, but Pepper doesn't look up from the bacon. The rest of the preparations go quickly, and ten minutes later they're both sitting at the counter, Tony sighs in contentment and takes a deep drink of orange juice from his glass.

"You're a pretty good cook," he compliments her genuinely. "Most of the time I can barely handle not burning my scrambled eggs."

"I know. That's why I decided to get a start on breakfast before waking you up."

He nods. "I do make a decent lasagna I suppose, and eggplant parmesan...but I'm afraid that's pretty much it. Mom's response to my constantly begging for my favorite foods was to teach me how to make them myself."

Pepper smiles at that, then shrugs a little bit. "You'd probably learn to cook better if you took the time. But you order food when you're busy...which is pretty much always."

He shrugs. "I guess that it just seems kind of pointless to me to go to all that work for just myself..."

Pepper doesn't point out that she's here half the time anyway. It's enough that what home-cooked meals he occasionally gets are made by her in the first place.

"So," she says carefully as she sets down her glass of milk after taking a sip. "It sounds like you're going to be busy today, fixing that fan."

Tony snorts. "Hardly. Unless the flying terrors have chewed through more than just a couple of wires." He smiles. "It should take maybe an hour to make the repairs, after which I plan to burn these clothes in effigy. After that," he shrugs, "Well I'm pretty much open to suggestion how to spend the rest of the day."

"Oh...okay." Pepper sounds surprised and...well, surprised. Like she'd been expecting him to take this chance to do some sort of major overhaul on the house...which is what tended to happen when he got caught up in a project.

Of course, he also didn't usually have the offer of her company to distract him, a fact he doubts she's factored into the equation.

He'll take goofing around with her over actual work any day of the week.

'Speaking of goofing around – go for something she likes…' "You know, I was thinking that if it's warmed up enough after I'm done, I'd throw my swimsuit on and maybe go surfing. I don't suppose that I can convince you to join me?"

It's a bait offer - and they both know it. One of Pepper's worst kept secrets is how much she loves the ocean. Though, Tony admits, he doesn't know whether she's actually been on a surfboard. A small detail she clears up for him pretty swiftly.

"I'm afraid I don't know how to surf, Tony."

He grins. "I'll teach you...or we can just swim or go body surfing."

"I think I'd like to learn how to learn how to surf," she says quietly and a little bit shyly.

His smile is broad. "Then just let me figure out what's up with the fan and afterwards, we'll head down to the beach." Tony's relieved that she's agreed to an outing. Hopefully with a little time together she'll find the courage to open up and actually talk to him. He prays she does, because otherwise he has absolutely no clue what's making her so skittish.

She nods. "It's a deal then. I'll take care of the dishes and check for any urgent messages in the meantime. Hey – will you have enough to eat with what's there on your plate?"

Tony looks down at his still half full plate and nods. "I'll be lucky to finish just this. Don't get me wrong - the food's great...I guess I'm just not that hungry this morning."

"You ought to be after yesterday," she grumbles under her breath as she takes another bite of her own meal. After all he'd barely touched the lunch she'd brought him, and he'd probably skipped supper – he usually did when he decided to drink heavily in the evenings.

"Whatever do you mean by that, Pepper?" Tony takes another bite of his burrito, more because she'd brought it up than anything else. Most of his attention is taken up by the way Pepper's blushing, confirming that she'd meant exactly what he'd thought she meant.

He debates for a moment, 'Tease her or let it pass?' With Pepper lately it's been tricky knowing how hard to push. "So...anything I need to do this weekend to be ready for Monday?" He figures the option of talking about work can provide a distraction if she wants it.

"Um, I..." Pepper looks around her, and her hands disappear below the counter as if she's patting herself down for her Blackberry. When she comes up empty she says, "I don't know. I'll check while you're working. I know I handled most of this yesterday but I wasn't really paying attention..." Pepper trails off and her lips tighten. "I'll check," she says, as if brushing aside the mishaps of the day before.

He forces himself not to reach out and pat her hand, unsure she even wants any reassurance. "Well I suppose then that I better see about getting the fan back in working order." He picks up his plate, food only half eaten, goes over to the sink and scrapes what's left in the sink into the garbage disposal before he rinses the dish with a soapy sponge before shaking it briskly and setting it in the rack to dry.

"If you need anything, while I'm in the duct system, Jarvis can patch you through to me. I don't know exactly how long this is going to take."

"Well, unless you run into a squirrel..." She smiles at him. "I doubt there's much up there to distract you."

"True enough. Though a time or two I have found signs of bird nests or bats. Thankfully only one mouse though – I finally trapped the little sucker."

Pepper raises an eyebrow, "You know, Tony, for a guy with a multimillion dollar security system, you seem get a lot of invaders."

"Yeah well, what can I say, Pep? Mankind and I get along just fine. It's just the broader animal kingdom that seems to have it in for me." He grins as he walks towards her. She doesn't smile back, but her eyes are warm as she tracks him. "Thank you for breakfast, Ms. Potts," he murmurs as he comes to a stop at her side.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Stark." She leans towards him, and for a moment Tony thinks she's going to kiss him. It's the balcony all over again as she pauses just inches from his lips. Once again her eyes search his, looking for something, though he doesn't know what.

She must find it though, because she closes that last gap and carefully brushes her lips against his.

Tony lets her lead, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her waist. 'Carefully Stark, _carefully_.' Her lips are soft and her breathing's a little fast, but she makes no attempt to pull back, applying a little more pressure as she makes a pleased little sound.

When her tongue peeks out from between her lips, his control slips just a bit, and his hands settle lightly on each of her hips as he leans forward and tilts his own head to one side, nibbling a little on her lower lip. She exhales in a soft rush and presses against him for the briefest of moments, then she carefully pulls away. He doesn't move, too enthralled by her darkening eyes.

"You know, come to think of it my swimsuit is starting to get kind of worn," she says a moment later in a voice that's just a touch unsteady. "So if you're going to be occupied for awhile, then I think I'll forgo checking email and make a run over to Macy's instead. It's closer than my house."

He nods, also a little bit breathless. "I suggest you try and stay off the main roads on your way. There's been road construction the last two weekends and it's snarling up traffic." He pauses, then shrugs his shoulders. "I don't suppose that while you're there you'd be willing to pick up a couple of pairs of plain white socks for me?"

She looks puzzled, but nods. "Of course. Do they need to be any particular kind?"

"No. Just plain white...I don't care about the brand or fabric, just as long as they're not dyed."

She nods, "Can I ask why? I thought you always prefer your socks a little more colorful…"

He actually looks a little embarrassed. "I'm taking a new medication that makes me sweat more than I used to. Unfortunately, mix that trait with dyed socks and well..." He shrugs, "I spent two days last month with brown feet."

Pepper nods in understanding. "I understand. Anything else that you know you're gonna need while I'm there?"

Tony shakes his head. "Nah...I ordered clean boxers and t-shirts myself not all that long ago. I just wear out socks faster because I pad around in them around the house so much."

Pepper blinks, 'He's been shopping for stuff online?' Normally when he needs to update his wardrobe he just lets her know and she schedules a visit from his tailor.

Come to think of it, that's not the only question she has at the moment. What is this new medication of his, exactly? She hasn't heard a thing about him needing any drugs other than his multivitamin and allergy meds. The fact he's on more than that is alarming since she's usually the one who notices when he's running low and orders his refills from the local pharmacy.

"I'll buy the jumbo pack," she murmurs as she thinks this all over. What is he on, and why exactly? She remembers him mentioning something about their needing to use condoms for seven months, and his surgery, but nothing specific...

"Tony - why did you never mention that you have a new prescription?" she asks in a voice that's a little trembly. "And for that matter, exactly what is it for?"

He shrugs, "It's just not something that fit into causal conversation. As for the drugs – well I've just had the occasional problem with tachycardia since this thing got implanted." He taps his chest. "So they have me on Propanol. To keep things nice and even in the heart rate department."

"You've been seeing a doctor?" Outside what she regularly schedules for him? She's sidetracked from a big issue for what could be a bigger one.

"Only once or twice. Just a cardiologist Nick Fury arranged to send over from S.H.I.E.L.D. Someone with the clearance to see the arc reactor who's also got the knowledge of cybernetics necessary to understand my situation."

"And?" She wouldn't have said before that it's in Tony's nature to be closed mouthed, but sometimes she doesn't know anymore. He'd kept his mouth shut about his suit for a long time. She hadn't realized what he'd been doing until he'd come back after that first mission.

"I'm fine, Pepper. Recovering as well as anyone could be in my particular situation."

"You _mean_ that, and you're not just saying it to make me feel better?"

The corners of Tony's mouth quirk up. "Pepper, I'm fine. Do I need to say it again?"

Pepper nods and rubs her hands nervously against her thighs. "Then...you insistence on using condoms earlier is just a precautionary thing?"

Tony's face shows immediate understanding and he's quick to reassure her. "The thing with the condoms has nothing to do with the drugs I'm on...I'm just insisting because I'm rampantly paranoid about keeping you healthy." He shakes his head, "They tested me for everything imaginable when I got back home and it all came back negative, but it wasn't exactly a sterile operating room, and by my reading at least, there's always a chance they missed something in their screening. The doctors keep saying that it's fine...but until it's been a full year and I pass another extensive round of blood tests, I'd just prefer to be careful. It's one thing for me to reap the consequences of my own poor choices, and something else entirely to pass that on to someone else."

Pepper relaxes a little bit. "Okay. Just checking. I mean, we didn't really talk about some things the way we probably should have."

He snorts, "Yeah well, we were in a hurry - and it's not exactly an easy topic over breakfast." He reaches out and touches her arm. "I hope you know me well enough to know that I'd never deliberately put you in danger. Though I freely admit that I might manage to do so on accident, occasionally."

Pepper shakes her head. "That's not...we didn't use a condom during out second round, Tony. We were both barely awake…I only now realized."

He blinks at that and frowns deeply. "Well it's just definitely something I'd prefer to never forget again, but it's also probably not life threatening. Look don't worry about it. The doctors have said its fine. Just grab whatever cash you need out of my wallet. It's on the kitchen counter. I think I better go and get started on fixing that fan."

"Hey." She reaches out and wraps her fingers around his wrist. "It's going to be okay, Tony. I'll do my best to keep it in mind too."

He nods and manages a small smile. "Right. Look go ahead and get your shopping done." Then he winks, "And if I get a vote, skip the one piece, Potts, and go for a bikini."

"We'll see, but don't hold your breath," she replies dryly as she slides off her stool and carries her plate to the sink.

"Ah come on. It's the twenty-first century, and if you haven't figured this out yet, most guys _totally_ dig freckles." He's starting to relax again, as he falls into their particular pattern of teasing. "Even if the ones on your arms do make me occasionally want to chase you around with a pen."

Pepper looks at him in confusion, "What in hell are you talking about?"

He grins, "When I was a kid I used to be absolutely wild about those dot to dot puzzle thingies. You've got a spread that looks like Mickey Mouse on your right hand."

She blushes lightly, but doesn't look completely disagreeable to the idea.

He chuckles and heads out of the room. "Okay I better get going. See you when I get back."

Pepper watches him make his way down the hallway before she turns to begin cleaning up the rest of the dishes.

The morning is waning, and Macy's is calling.

She's in the men's underwear section before Pepper realizes that she's a little bit pissed off.

The knowledge occurs to her suddenly, and with very little warning. One minute she's contemplating whether to go with Hanes or Fruit of the Loom, and the next she's squeezing the bag of socks so hard that it leaves tiny nail marks in the plastic. What's even more surprising to her is the _reason_ that she's so angry.

She's buying Tony socks, thanks to the side effects of a new heart medication which he's never mentioned before now even though he's likely been on it for _months_...

She hates it when he keeps secrets. Hates when he hides things that are important.

If he's got a cardiac condition then she damn well should have heard about it as soon as he found out. 'Why exactly is that, Potts?' An insidious part of her whispers back. 'Why is it any of your business? I mean if you can't even handle talking about what happened between the two of you yesterday yet, then why do you have the right to intimate details about something as deeply private as his medical situation? You're his employee and now you're his lover. That's different than being his _wife_.'

"Shut up," she tells the inner voice. "I'm supposed to be looking out for his interests. It's _not_ the same thing."

But the thought is like a hook from which she can't wiggle free. By the time she's moved from the men's section to women's swimsuits she has to admit that there was at least some truth to the statement. She and Tony do have a less than typical relationship…she knows things about him that most people never will.

But that doesn't mean she knows everything that goes on in his head. It also doesn't mean he shows her every aspect of himself.

Some things about Tony Stark are still a mystery to her.

She may not like to admit it, but just because she's known him for over a decade doesn't mean she actually knows him any better than he knows her. She knows some of his behaviors yes, but not all of the motives behind them. 'And if you don't like realizing that, Virginia, then you have two choices. Run again or occasionally take off the cloak of job related pretension and try and actually get to _know_ him.'

It's the only real way for this new relationship of theirs to have a chance. The idea of doing it though, is scary as hell.

'And you think he's not afraid?' That insidious voice whispers in her ear. 'Do you honestly think he's got anything less to lose in this than you do?'

"Yes," she mutters under her breath and she pulls a blue two piece swimsuit off the rack.

After all this is not just risking her heart, this is risking her job…her source of income and her professional reputation if things go bad.

'You honestly think he'll fire you? That he's going to purposely give you bad references if you decide to quit? If you're that sure that he's that indecent a person, Potts, than why do you even care so personally what medications he's taking, and what that might mean about his health?'

Her fear of him and her fear _for_ him can't logically coexist in the same place once they're called to her attention. 'So what do you really know about him, then…? He's juvenile, narcissistic and impulsive, and unless he's working he usually displays a toddler's level of impatience.'

He's also brilliant, fiercely loyal and ready to die without a second thought for the things he believes in.

Tony constantly leaves messes wherever he goes. And half the time, Pepper's not even sure he sees them. But his intentions? His intentions tend to make it very, very hard to judge him harshly for very long. Yes he hurts people, but his acts are usually thoughtless, not deliberate or sadistic.

'Admit it Potts: you've never had any respect at all for the way that he handles his women. But you conversely know and admire the way that he'll go to the end of the earth for people he's never met…never mind the lengths he'll go to for his friends.'

And she, well yes she's now joined the long line of women who can say they've been in Tony Stark's bed. But as far as she knows she's the only lover he's ever taken who's also been offered access to his personal life. That means this is new waters. Not just for her, but for him.

And Tony's being surprisingly gentle right now – he's not demanding they talk, even though he certainly deserves more resolution than she's offered him. Instead he's simply volunteered to spend an afternoon doing something he believes she'll enjoy, just for the pleasure of her company.

Pepper doesn't know if that's because he believes her apology is explanation enough, or because he's afraid if he pushes her too hard she'll simply leave again.

The real question is, what's the best way to reassure him? She tilts her head and then feels her lips begin to spread in a grin.

Tony likes mental challenges right? A stop at the game store out in the mall for one of those 3-D Puzzles should solve that problem. No only will it reveal one of her private addictions, but she's reasonably sure this is one passtime he won't object to participating in.

And the fact the average puzzle takes her weeks to complete? Well that is just an added bonus, since she fully intends to construct the base and leave it at his house until it's done.

She heads for the checkout, not-quite bikini in hand, feeling quite proud of herself.


End file.
